The new arrival recognises DAUBINET, and salutes him. DAUBINET warmly acknowledges the recognition, and in a few moments they are engaged in an animated conversation, one commencing his reply before the other has finished his question, neither permitting the other to complete a sentence, whether interrogatory or declaratory; so that, during the greater part of their conversation,—which lasts till, thank goodness, the stranger has to get out, which he does at thenext station, and disappears in the darkness,—I can only pick up a word or half a sentence here and there, and, in a general way, wonder why they become so earnest and emphatic about the most ordinary topics. For an English listener, however, it is an excellent lesson in colloquial French; only I cannot help wishing that they would take the "tempo" just a little slower, and that their tone were not necessarily up to concert pitch, in order to keep itself well above the running accompaniment of railway-wheels, which seems to fit all modes of counting from two to sixteen in a bar. At last the train stops, the dialogue becomes jerky, our companion salutes us politely, wishes us "bon voyage" and descends.
After his departure, I ask DAUBINET, "Who is your friend?" as I should like to know the reason of DAUBINET not having introduced us. His reply at once resolves all my doubts and difficulties on the subject; it is simply, "Heaven knows! He is a nice fellow. I have met himquelque part. Ah! v'là!" He rushes to the window. "Hi! hi! Guard! Conducteur!" The Conducteur appears, and informs us that we descend at the next station, and, after that, in another five minutes we shall be at Reims.
And so we are. Reims at last! Not brilliant is Reims on this dark night. There are several omnibuses and other vehicles waiting to take the very few passengers who alight from the train, and who, it appears, as a rule, prefer to walk. Having no baggage beyond a few bags and a small portmanteau which travel with us in our compartment, and which the porter can wheel on a truck, or indeed carry if he chooses, we are soon in the 'bus, and rattling over the stones to the Hotel.
'NEB'LAR (HIC) 'POTHESIS.'"NEB'LAR (HIC) 'POTHESIS."Elderly Gentleman(overcome by gravitation). "'ORRIGHT, INSPECTRUM. BEEN READING SPEESH—PRES'DENT BRI'SH-SOSHIASHLEM. SHPLENDID SPEESH! I'M IN 'UNIQUE POSISHN 'F (HIC) ABSOLUTE IMM'BILITY IN MIDSHT OF WHIRLING 'N DRIFTING SUNS, 'N SYSHTEMS 'F SUNS.' GOOD OLD HUGGINS!!"
Elderly Gentleman(overcome by gravitation). "'ORRIGHT, INSPECTRUM. BEEN READING SPEESH—PRES'DENT BRI'SH-SOSHIASHLEM. SHPLENDID SPEESH! I'M IN 'UNIQUE POSISHN 'F (HIC) ABSOLUTE IMM'BILITY IN MIDSHT OF WHIRLING 'N DRIFTING SUNS, 'N SYSHTEMS 'F SUNS.' GOOD OLD HUGGINS!!"
I tap you early, tap you late,In vain!We get—whateveryoumay state—Much rain.The Woodpecker of which fools singNe'er tappedHalf so persistently. Since SpringI've rappedYour fair false dial day by day,And yetThe end—whatever you may sayIs wet!'Twas wet in June, and in JulyWet too;In August it is wetter. Why,Trustyou?Barometer, you false old chap,You bore!I'm no Woodpecker, and I'll tapNo more!
I tap you early, tap you late,In vain!We get—whateveryoumay state—Much rain.The Woodpecker of which fools singNe'er tappedHalf so persistently. Since SpringI've rappedYour fair false dial day by day,And yetThe end—whatever you may sayIs wet!'Twas wet in June, and in JulyWet too;In August it is wetter. Why,Trustyou?Barometer, you false old chap,You bore!I'm no Woodpecker, and I'll tapNo more!
I tap you early, tap you late,
In vain!
We get—whateveryoumay state—
Much rain.
The Woodpecker of which fools sing
Ne'er tapped
Half so persistently. Since Spring
I've rapped
Your fair false dial day by day,
And yet
The end—whatever you may say
Is wet!
'Twas wet in June, and in July
Wet too;
In August it is wetter. Why,
Trustyou?
Barometer, you false old chap,
You bore!
I'm no Woodpecker, and I'll tap
No more!
SCENE—A Railway Compartment.BROWNandSMITHlooking up from their Daily Papers.
SCENE—A Railway Compartment.BROWNandSMITHlooking up from their Daily Papers.
Brown. Now that Parliament stands prorogued, I suppose there is nothing to read?
Smith. Nothing. Except this article upon Australia. Tells one all about Capital and Labour inthatpart of the world. Most interesting. Wonder how they found room for it! Have you seen it?
Brown. Well, no. Fact is I have been reading about Argentina. Very exhaustive article this, and on a matter of serious moment. I hold some shares as a trustee. Seems that they will all come right in the end. Would you like to see it?
Smith. When I have time to read it. But, to tell the truth, it takes me a good hour to get through the City Intelligence. And the racing, too, that always interests me; but I don't think it is so exciting as the Stock Exchange.
Brown. No more do I. By the way, is there anything good in the correspondence line in your paper?
Smith. The usual sensational recess subjects. Some of the letters are too good for the general public; they must have been written in the office.
Brown. I daresay. And perhaps these sketches of places away from Town are also written in London?
Smith. Not a bit of it! I happen to know that the papers spend thousands and thousands upon obtaining information in every quarter of the globe. Bogus articles are things of the past.
Brown. Only fancy! And all this expense for nothing in the recess! When no one reads the papers!
Smith. Yes, and when there's nothing in them!
[They resume perusal of their papers until interrupted by a tunnel. Curtain.
[They resume perusal of their papers until interrupted by a tunnel. Curtain.
Oh, Sir, I read the papers every day,To amuse myself and pass the time away;But they've got so hard to follow that they simply beat me hollowWith the learning and the culture they display;And they wouldn't be so hard if those good people down at CardiffWould but be a shade more careful what they say.The President's address, I think, will taxMy intellectual organ till it cracks;The Association British isn't wanted to be skittish,Wear the motley, nor to run a race in sacks;But 'twas getting awkward rather when my youngest asked his fatherWhat the President implied by parallax.The money market often puzzles me;I've no notion what the Funding Loan may be;In the sales of corn (Odessa), jute and sago, I confess aSort of feeling that I'm very much at sea;But couldn't the reporter keep this science rather shorter,Or at any rate provide us with a key?
Oh, Sir, I read the papers every day,To amuse myself and pass the time away;But they've got so hard to follow that they simply beat me hollowWith the learning and the culture they display;And they wouldn't be so hard if those good people down at CardiffWould but be a shade more careful what they say.
Oh, Sir, I read the papers every day,
To amuse myself and pass the time away;
But they've got so hard to follow that they simply beat me hollow
With the learning and the culture they display;
And they wouldn't be so hard if those good people down at Cardiff
Would but be a shade more careful what they say.
The President's address, I think, will taxMy intellectual organ till it cracks;The Association British isn't wanted to be skittish,Wear the motley, nor to run a race in sacks;But 'twas getting awkward rather when my youngest asked his fatherWhat the President implied by parallax.
The President's address, I think, will tax
My intellectual organ till it cracks;
The Association British isn't wanted to be skittish,
Wear the motley, nor to run a race in sacks;
But 'twas getting awkward rather when my youngest asked his father
What the President implied by parallax.
The money market often puzzles me;I've no notion what the Funding Loan may be;In the sales of corn (Odessa), jute and sago, I confess aSort of feeling that I'm very much at sea;But couldn't the reporter keep this science rather shorter,Or at any rate provide us with a key?
The money market often puzzles me;
I've no notion what the Funding Loan may be;
In the sales of corn (Odessa), jute and sago, I confess a
Sort of feeling that I'm very much at sea;
But couldn't the reporter keep this science rather shorter,
Or at any rate provide us with a key?
HOUSE DECORATION.—What am I to do under the following circumstances? I took a house a year ago, and painted the outside scarlet, with gold "facings," to remind me—and my neighbours—of the fact that I am highly connected with the Army, my deceased wife's half-brother having once held some post in the Commissariat. I am leaving the house now, and my landlord actually insists on my scraping all the paint off! He says that if any bulls happen to pass the house, they will be sure to run at it. Am I obliged to yield to this ridiculous caprice?—LOVER OF THE PICTURESQUE.
ALL-ROUND POLITICIANS.—SIR RICHARD.ALL-ROUND POLITICIANS.—SIR RICHARD.Mr. Punch's Parliamentary Artist reads in the Papers that Sir Richard T—— does not intend to Stand for Parliament again!
Oh! how delightful now at last to comeAway from town—its dirt, its degradation,Its never-ending whirl, its ceaseless hum.(A long chalks better, though, than sheer stagnation.)For what could mortal man or maid want moreThan breezy downs to stroll on, rocks to climb up,Weird labyrinthine caverns to explore?(There's nothing else to do to fill the time up.)Your honest face here earns an honest brown,You ramble on for miles 'mid gorse and heather,Sheep hold athletic sports upon the down(Which makes the mutton taste as tough as leather).The place is guiltless, too, of horrid piers,And likewise is not Christy-Minstrel tooney;No soul-distressing strains disturb your ears.(A German band has just played "Annie Rooney.")The eggs as fresh as paint, the Cornish creamThe boys from school all say is "simply ripping,"The butter, so the girls declare, "a dream."(The only baccy you can buy quite dripping.)A happiness of resting after strife,Where one forgets all worldly pain and sorrow,And one contentedly could pass one's life.(A telegram will takemehome to-morrow.)
Oh! how delightful now at last to comeAway from town—its dirt, its degradation,Its never-ending whirl, its ceaseless hum.(A long chalks better, though, than sheer stagnation.)
Oh! how delightful now at last to come
Away from town—its dirt, its degradation,
Its never-ending whirl, its ceaseless hum.
(A long chalks better, though, than sheer stagnation.)
For what could mortal man or maid want moreThan breezy downs to stroll on, rocks to climb up,Weird labyrinthine caverns to explore?(There's nothing else to do to fill the time up.)
For what could mortal man or maid want more
Than breezy downs to stroll on, rocks to climb up,
Weird labyrinthine caverns to explore?
(There's nothing else to do to fill the time up.)
Your honest face here earns an honest brown,You ramble on for miles 'mid gorse and heather,Sheep hold athletic sports upon the down(Which makes the mutton taste as tough as leather).
Your honest face here earns an honest brown,
You ramble on for miles 'mid gorse and heather,
Sheep hold athletic sports upon the down
(Which makes the mutton taste as tough as leather).
The place is guiltless, too, of horrid piers,And likewise is not Christy-Minstrel tooney;No soul-distressing strains disturb your ears.(A German band has just played "Annie Rooney.")
The place is guiltless, too, of horrid piers,
And likewise is not Christy-Minstrel tooney;
No soul-distressing strains disturb your ears.
(A German band has just played "Annie Rooney.")
The eggs as fresh as paint, the Cornish creamThe boys from school all say is "simply ripping,"The butter, so the girls declare, "a dream."(The only baccy you can buy quite dripping.)
The eggs as fresh as paint, the Cornish cream
The boys from school all say is "simply ripping,"
The butter, so the girls declare, "a dream."
(The only baccy you can buy quite dripping.)
A happiness of resting after strife,Where one forgets all worldly pain and sorrow,And one contentedly could pass one's life.(A telegram will takemehome to-morrow.)
A happiness of resting after strife,
Where one forgets all worldly pain and sorrow,
And one contentedly could pass one's life.
(A telegram will takemehome to-morrow.)
CANINE SAGACITY.—Numerous instances of this have been quoted in theSpectatorand other papers. OurTobywould like to be informed how one clever dog would communicate with another clever dog, if the former were in a great hurry? The reply from a great authority in the K9 Division, signing himself "DOGBERRY," is that "the clever dog would either tailegraph or tailephone; but that, anyhow, in the strictest confidence, he would tell his own tail."
SCENE—The Sanctum ofPaterfamilias.Enter to himJACKY,his eldest born.
SCENE—The Sanctum ofPaterfamilias.Enter to himJACKY,his eldest born.
Pater. (cordially). How are you, old chap?
Jacky. Very well, thank you, Father. And will you forgive me—is not "chap" a trifle slangy?
Pater. (astonished). Eh! what?
Jacky. You were good enough to write to my Form Master after the Easter Vacation, complaining of my style. Consequently that worthy pedagogue has given more than usual attention to that part of my education.
Pater. Well, now you are home for the holidays! As for your Form Master—hang him and all his works!
Jacky. Are you quite sure that you are quoting correctly? To the best of my belief the line goes, "hang him with his pen and ink-horn."
Pater. Eh! what? I don't understand you.
Jacky. Why, my dear Father, I naturally concluded that you were quoting; from the Immortal Bard. You will find the passage inThe Second Part of King Henry the Sixth, scene iv., line 2.
Pater. What are you talking about?
Jacky. Why your misquotation. And will you forgive me—but do you not think it would sound better if you were to ask me—"about what I was talking"? I might add that my Form Master and I—
Pater. Your "Form Master and you." Rot and bosh! I should say—
Jacky(with a twitch of pain). Oh, my dear Father, more slang, more slang!
Pater. (getting very red). And what if there is? What's that to you? You don't pay for my education, do you?
Jacky(quickly). No. If I did, I could not declare that I was satisfied with your progress!
Pater. (indignantly). You little prig, I—
Jacky(calmly interrupting). Pray do not excite yourself. I am only doing my duty. I am merely attempting to instruct those less polished than myself. Surely I may regard such an action with satisfaction?
Pater. (furious). You shall go back to school at once!
Jacky. I am afraid that that is scarcely practicable. If you will refer to the slip that accompanied my school-bill, you will notice that the Vacation does not cease until the 20th of September.
Pater. And a nice school-bill! Why they charged everything as an extra!
Jacky. Surely such a matter is scarcely within my province? According to statute, my dear Father, you are bound to provide for me until (if my memory does not betray me) I reach the age of sixteen. As I am now five years younger than that limit, it is clearly your duty to support me.
Pater. Why, Sir, you are insupportable!
Jacky(smiling). I see—a joke—very good! But, my dear Sir, do you think it quite dignified to make so small a jest in my presence? It is calculated to lessen my respect for you.
Pater. Well I never!
Jacky. Never what? You have not completed the sentence.
Pater. Sir, you are an insolent young puppy!
Jacky. I am forced to contradict you—in justice to yourself. You cannot be willing to let me regard you as a dog?
Pater. (after a pause). Well, the sooner you get back to the school the better.
Jacky(promptly). I have no doubt you are right, my dear Father; and, as I take a sincere interest in your welfare, I would respectfully suggest that you should accompany me. It must be patent to us both that you are lacking in polish.
Pater. (losing his patience). You young cub! I will give you the soundest thrashing you ever had in your life!
Materfamilias(interposing). Oh, you cruel man! What has the poor child done?
Jacky(with ready tact). Nothing, dearest Mamma, except to take after his kind, clever and accomplished Mother!
[Scene closes in upon a family group not entirely free from domestic complications.
[Scene closes in upon a family group not entirely free from domestic complications.
A is for ABEL, who can certainly block well;B stands for BOWLEY, and BEAUMONT, and BROOKWELL;C is the Captain, JOHN SHUTER his name;D is the Devotion he gives to the game;E is the Eleven, deservedly great;F is the Funk which their bowlers create.G stands for GEORGE—our only GEORGE LOHMANN;H for young HENDERSON, valiant young foeman.I is the Innings, beloved of the gapers;J is the Jargon they put in the papers.K is for KEY, the accomplished Dark Blue;L is for LOCKWOOD, who bowls a bit too;M is for MAURICE, his other name READ;N poor old Nottingham, beaten indeed.O is the Oval, the home of the crowd;P the Pavilion, the seat of the proud.Q is the Question, "Oh, Umpire, how's that?"R is for Gentleman READ, who can bat.S stands for SHARPE, it will pay you to mind him;T is the Trouble they were put to to find him;U their United attempts—hard, to beat them;V the Vain efforts oft made to defeat them.W represents WOOD at the wicket;X is the Xcellent style of their cricket.Y ends the county, not played out in a hurry.Z stands for Zero, a stranger to Surrey!
A is for ABEL, who can certainly block well;B stands for BOWLEY, and BEAUMONT, and BROOKWELL;C is the Captain, JOHN SHUTER his name;D is the Devotion he gives to the game;E is the Eleven, deservedly great;F is the Funk which their bowlers create.G stands for GEORGE—our only GEORGE LOHMANN;H for young HENDERSON, valiant young foeman.I is the Innings, beloved of the gapers;J is the Jargon they put in the papers.K is for KEY, the accomplished Dark Blue;L is for LOCKWOOD, who bowls a bit too;M is for MAURICE, his other name READ;N poor old Nottingham, beaten indeed.O is the Oval, the home of the crowd;P the Pavilion, the seat of the proud.Q is the Question, "Oh, Umpire, how's that?"R is for Gentleman READ, who can bat.S stands for SHARPE, it will pay you to mind him;T is the Trouble they were put to to find him;U their United attempts—hard, to beat them;V the Vain efforts oft made to defeat them.W represents WOOD at the wicket;X is the Xcellent style of their cricket.Y ends the county, not played out in a hurry.Z stands for Zero, a stranger to Surrey!
A is for ABEL, who can certainly block well;
B stands for BOWLEY, and BEAUMONT, and BROOKWELL;
C is the Captain, JOHN SHUTER his name;
D is the Devotion he gives to the game;
E is the Eleven, deservedly great;
F is the Funk which their bowlers create.
G stands for GEORGE—our only GEORGE LOHMANN;
H for young HENDERSON, valiant young foeman.
I is the Innings, beloved of the gapers;
J is the Jargon they put in the papers.
K is for KEY, the accomplished Dark Blue;
L is for LOCKWOOD, who bowls a bit too;
M is for MAURICE, his other name READ;
N poor old Nottingham, beaten indeed.
O is the Oval, the home of the crowd;
P the Pavilion, the seat of the proud.
Q is the Question, "Oh, Umpire, how's that?"
R is for Gentleman READ, who can bat.
S stands for SHARPE, it will pay you to mind him;
T is the Trouble they were put to to find him;
U their United attempts—hard, to beat them;
V the Vain efforts oft made to defeat them.
W represents WOOD at the wicket;
X is the Xcellent style of their cricket.
Y ends the county, not played out in a hurry.
Z stands for Zero, a stranger to Surrey!
A GENUINE REGRET.—The French Admiral had one regret in leaving Albion's hospitable shores, and that is that he didn't go up to London and get a taste of a real City Savory at a Munching House banquet. He wouldn't have found The Albion "perfidious" in the matter of "turtle and fine living,"—which was Mrs. R.'s description of the Pharisee. Their French leave is up, and they're on sail or return.
NOTICE.—Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will in no case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To this rule there will be no exception.